


You're Not Alone

by Wordsintothevoid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Bisexual Dean, Child Neglect, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean-Centric, Dean/Cas Pinefest, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Repressed Dean, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Parental Physical Abuse, Pining, Pining Dean, Sam Ships It, Supportive Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsintothevoid/pseuds/Wordsintothevoid
Summary: Dean has an imaginary friend. Sure, that's weird as hell but he doesn't care. Cas has been there to support him during every horrible thing in Dean's short miserable life and he is not giving up Cas. Sure, Dean may also sorta kinda be in love with him. Oops. And it hurts but Dean will keep it platonic. But then Cas leaves. And then Dean breaks.





	1. Shooting Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first full length fanfic so kudos and comments are lovely! Special thanks to my beta, Shari, who is a goddess and made this fic go from good to awesome.
> 
> Check me out on tumblr! My URL is technicallyoriginalchopshop. The art (done by xnormalityworksx) is also on my tumblr.

 

___May 1, 1983_

 

“Dean, let’s go look at the stars.” Cas turns from the window and smiles.

 

Dean grins. “OK. Where?”

 

Cas pokes him. “On the trampoline, silly.”

 

Dean and Cas are halfway down the stairs when Dean freezes. “We gotta tell Mommy!”

 

Dean races back upstairs and barges into his parents’ room, where his mother is reading. “Hey, Mommy, can me and Cas go look at the stars?”

 

Mommy frowns. “Dean, honey, who’s Cas?”

 

Dean sighs at his mother’s silliness. “Mommy, Cas just came over today. He lives down the street. But he’s really nice! And pretty! Hey, Cas! C’mere! Mommy wants to meet you.”

 

Cas appears in the doorway, waving shyly.

 

Dean rattles on, “Hey, Cas, isn’t Cas short for something? I can’t ‘member what, though.”

 

Cas nods. “Cas-tee-l.”

 

Dean tries to pronounce it, but his mouth can't quite form the right sounds. “Never mind, he’s just Cas.”

 

Mommy smiles fondly. “OK, Dean. Stay in the yard and don’t get too cold.”

 

Dean pats her round belly and whispers, “Goodnight, Sammy.”

 

Mommy beams at him.

 

Cas grabs Dean’s hand and they race to Dean’s room to pull all the blankets off the bed. As they head back down the stairs, Dean almost trips because those blankets are heavy, but it’s OK because Cas catches him before he falls.

 

Dean opens the screen door and shivers in the chilly May evening. He scrambles across the wet lawn, Cas right behind him, and up onto the trampoline. Dean bounces for just a minute before beginning the all-important task of arranging the quilts just so.

 

Dean lies down and Cas scoots over so he’s pressed against Dean’s side. Dean instantly relaxes because Cas is just so warm. But that worries Dean just a little.

 

“Hey, Cas, you got a fever?” He presses a palm to Cas’s forehead like his mom does when Dean’s sick.

 

Cas gently moves Dean’s hand away and smiles. “No, Dean, I’m fine. Promise.”

 

Dean’s breath catches just a little because Cas is sopretty when he smiles. It makes his blue eyes crinkle and dimples appear. Dean snuggles against Cas, and Cas flips the quilt over both of them so Dean is toasty warm.

 

The sky looks like a dark, velvety blanket with little sprinkles of stars. As Dean watches with wide eyes, a shooting star hurtles across the sky and disappears below the horizon.

 

“Cas! Cas! Did you see the shooting star? Did you? Did you?” Dean is so excited, he’s barely coherent.

 

Cas’s eyes are shining. “I did! Now we get to make a wish.”

 

Dean closes his eyes and wishes that he and Cas will be friends forever.

 


	2. Forgotten

May 2, 1983

 

It’s the sunrise that first wakes Dean. He’s still sleepy and warm, so he snuggles closer to whomever he’s cuddling. He lifts one heavy eyelid, sees Cas’s dark hair, and sighs in contentment.

 

The next time Dean wakes up, he’s in his daddy’s arms, still wrapped in blankets. Dean is being carried into the house and the sun is all the way up. It’s bright and so Dean closes his eyes. His daddy passes him to someone and Dean looks up to see his mother’s blond hair. She smiles at him and carries him to his room.

 

When Dean fully awakens, it’s afternoon and the sunlight is slanting across his room in bright stripes. He slips out of bed and opens his door. He tiptoes across the hall to the bedroom that will soon belong toSammy. The walls are green and a stuffed bumblebee is resting in the crib. Dean picked the bee out because he just knew Sammy would love it. Dean climbs into the crib, holding the bee, and thinks. The house is strangely silent and he wishes Cas was here. Just as the thought crosses his mind, the doorbell rings.

 

Dean jumps out the crib and pounds down the stairs. He flings the front door open and there is Cas, standing shyly on the steps. “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean tackles him in a bear hug. “There you are! I was wondering where you were! Where did you go?”

 

Cas steps inside and closes the door behind him. “I had to go home. My mom got mad.”

 

Dean understands. His mommy sometimes says he can’t play, too. “But you can play today, right?” He’s a little afraid that Cas will say no. Dean needs someone there so the house won’t feel so big and empty.

 

Cas looks at him like he knows exactly what Dean’s thinking and Dean fidgets. “Of course I can play. What do you want to do?”

 

“Well, I don’t know where Mommy and Daddy are. Can you help me find them?”

 

“Sure. Start calling for them.”

 

Dean heads up the stairs yelling for his mom and dad. He checks their bedroom, Sammy’s room, his room, the bathroom. No one replies.

 

He checks the kitchen and finds Cas looking in a cupboard. “Cas, I can’t find them anywhere!”

 

Cas closes the cupboard door and wraps his arms around Dean. “It’s OK, Dean. I’m here.”

 

And Dean doesn’t understand why, but he suddenly starts to cry. He’s trying to hold back the sobs because Daddy says that boys that cry are crybabies and Dean doesn’t want to be a crybaby. But the tears keep flowing. He doesn’t know where Mommy and Daddy are and they left him here all alone.

 

Cas keeps his arm firmly around Dean’s shoulders and leads him to the couch. “They’ll be back soon, Dean. They love you. It’s OK.”

 

Cas keeps whispering soothing nonsense, but Dean just buries his face in Cas’s coat and cries himself to sleep.

 

 

Dean wakes up to the sound of a car in the driveway. He peeks out the window and sees the Impala and it feels like he can breathe again. He flings open the door and runs outside in his bare feet and yesterday’s clothes.

 

His daddy gets out and opens the door open for Mommy. She gets out and Dean expects them to come inside, explain why they left. But Mommy opens the door of the back seat and pulls out a … a car seat?Sammy?

 

Mom unbuckles the car seat and lifts it up for Dean to see. “Dean, meet your little brother, Samuel Winchester.”

 

Dean stands on his tiptoes to see. The baby has wisps of light brown hair and a squishy, wrinkly face. “Hiya, Sammy.”

 

He turns around looking for Cas, excited to show offhis new baby brother. Cas is suddenly at his elbow. “Cas, this is Sammy! He’s my brother!”

 

Cas lifts the edge of the blanket to reveal a sleepy Sammy waving chubby fists. “He’s beautiful, Dean, just like you.”

 

For some reason, that makes Dean feel all squishy inside and he has to look at the ground for a moment.

 

Mommy passes Sammy’s car seat to Daddy and crouches down to Dean’s level. She cups his face, eyes full of concern. “I’m so sorry you had to wake up alone, baby. Everything just happened so fast. Are you okay?”

 

Dean squares his shoulders. “I was fine. Cas was with me. And besides, I’m not a baby. Sammy’s the baby.”

 

Mommy just laughs and gives him a quick hug. She takes his hand and they all walk inside together and close the door.


	3. The Fire

November 2, 1983

 

Dean has had a fun day. Mommy took him and Sammy to the park and she pushed them on the swings. Then Mommy bought Dean ice cream and Dean chose rocky road, his very favorite ice cream in the whole world. Even Sammy got some licks of Mommy’s vanilla cone. But now Dean is tired.

 

Mommy sees him valiantly trying to stay awake and smiles. She picks him up and carries him to Sammy’s nursery. She turns on the light, and Dean can see Sammy is still awake. “C’mon, let’s say goodnight to your brother.”

 

Dean wriggles free and races to Sammy’s crib, his sleepiness forgotten for the moment. “Good night, Sam.” He plants a kiss on his forehead.

 

Mommy says goodnight too, but then Dean hears, “Hey, Dean.” He runs toward his daddy because Daddy has been gone all day at the garage and Dean can’t wait to tell him all about his day.

 

Daddy tickles him and asks if he thinks Sammy is ready to start to throwing around a football yet. Dean just laughs because Daddy is so silly—Sammy is just a baby!

 

Daddy tells Sammy to have sweet dreams and then he heads to Dean’s room. Dean’s room is painted blue, his favorite color. He tells Daddy about his fun day as he gets tucked into bed.

 

Mommy comes in and Daddy kisses her before he leaves to go watch the news. Mommy brings out the book basket and tells Dean that he can only pick one. Thus the hardest decision of Dean’s day is before him. Dean touches The Giving Tree, but then he looks atWinnie the Pooh and pauses. He loves them both; how can he choose? He only manages to decide when Mommy says that they can read the other book tomorrow night. So Dean chooses The Giving Tree.He listens intently, and when the book is over, Mommy kisses his forehead.

 

“Angels are watching over you, Dean. Never forget.” She turns out the lights and closes the door.

 

Dean rolls over and Cas is there, staring intently at him. Dean sighs because Cas must have snuck in again. Dean wonders why Cas’s mom doesn’t make him stop. “Cas, you gotta stop doing that. My mom might get mad if you keep sleeping over without her permission.”

 

Cas just glares at him like he’s dumb. “I am very good at hiding.” Then he adds, looking thoughtful, “And I liked that book.”

 

Dean frowns. “But the little boy kept taking and taking. Why didn’t the tree say no?”

 

Cas smiles. “The tree loved the boy too much. Maybe the tree regretted its choices, just once, but then I think the boy came to visit and the tree decided that there was nothing it wouldn’t give for the boy. The boy was worth it.”

 

Dean doesn’t understand. “Why was the boy worth it? Why was he special?”

 

Cas stares off into space for a while. “I think the boy had pretty green eyes like a forest in the mountains. I think he was pure and righteous. I think he loved his family and would do anything to protect them. I think the tree thought the boy was pretty and liked the sound of his laugh and wanted to be with him forever and protect him.”

 

Dean doesn’t know why he keeps arguing but he does. “But why was the boy worth so much? ”

 

Cas looks at Dean for a long, long moment. “Because he just was.”

 

And there is nothing Dean can say to that.

 

Cas snuggles next to Dean and sighs in contentment. “Go to sleep, Dean.”

 

And so Dean does.

 

 

 

Dean jerks awake to what sounds like screaming. He lies in bed, frozen in terror. He rolls over and locks eyes with Cas, who is just as tense.

 

Cas puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder and somehow Dean doesn’t feel as panicky. “Just wait. We’ll go if we hear anything else.”

 

Dean nods and lies in the darkness, counting his pounding heartbeats. One. Two. Three.

 

“MARY!”

 

Dean throws back his covers, grabs Cas’s hand, and sprints out into the hallway. Daddy appears, holding Sammy, and now Dean can smell smoke. “Dean, take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back! Go, Dean!” He pushes Sammy into Dean’s arms and Dean is more scared than he has ever been in his entire life.

 

But Cas is shoving Dean toward the stairs and Dean finally manages to move his feet. Normally, Dean isn’t allowed to carry Sammy down the stairs, but Dean knows that this is no ordinary night. He tramples downstairs, Cas right behind him.

 

Dean makes it to the front yard. Everything seems to pause as he stares at the flames leaping out windows. He cuddles Sam closer and buries his nose in the crook of his neck and whispers, “It’s OK.” He’s not sure why he says it, but Cas’s hand is on his shoulder and Sam is in his arms, and Dean feels like they’ll survive.

 

Later, Dean sits on the cold hood of a police car and watches his home burn. Dean’s eyes suddenly start overflowing because he starts thinking of Sammy’s bee and Dean’s favorite toy car, a tiny Impala like Daddy’s, and Mommy’s not here and never will be and he’s cold and his throat hurts—

 

The next thing Dean knows, he’s sobbing into his daddy’s robe. Cas tries to comfort him but Dean just cries himself to sleep.


	4. Silence

November 20, 1983

 

“Dean, are you going to talk to me now?” Dad looks upset and sad.

 

Dean shakes his head. He doesn’t know what words will come out of his mouth if he ever lets them escape.

 

Dad just sighs. “I’m going out for a minute. Take care of Sammy if he wakes up.” He leaves and Dean is left alone in an unfamiliar motel room.

 

Dean curls up on one of the beds and turns on the TV. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and Dean tenses in alarm until he sees Cas waving at him through a window. Dean lets him in.

 

They watch a whole episode of Looney Tunes togetherbefore Cas speaks: “You’ll talk when you’re ready, right?”

 

Dean considers that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready but if he is, then … Dean nods.

 

Cas smiles sadly. “Good. I miss your voice.”

 

The next episode is starting, so Dean checks to make sure that the volume is low enough to not wake up Sammy sleeping on the other bed. He climbs back on the bed with Cas and they watch cartoons together in silence until they fall asleep.

 

Dean doesn’t talk for three more months.


	5. A Revelation

July 15, 1986

 

Seven-year-old Dean carefully places the wooden blocks on top of each other. His tower is almost ten blocks tall and it’s swaying dangerously, but still standing. He stands up to see if there are more blocks behind him.

 

There are, but by the time he turns back around with a few in hand, three-year-old Sam has toddled over and knocked down all of Dean’s tower. Dean nearly screams. He’d been working on that for ages. Dean shoves Sam away and Sammy falls down, just as Dad walks into the room.

 

Dean has never seen Dad so angry. “Dean Winchester, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sammy is wailing, but Dean can hear Dad yelling just fine.

 

Dean shrinks. “I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t know? Are you kidding me? Your brother is your responsibility, Dean! Try to get that through your thick skull! Apologize. Now!”

 

Dean shuffles over and scoops up the still crying Sam. He rocks him until Sam stops crying. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Do you forgive me?”

 

Sam sniffles. “I ‘give you. I’m sorry ‘bout your tower.”

 

Dad takes a deep breath and seems to calm down. “Dean, grab Sammy and get in the Impala. Don’t ask questions; just go.”

 

Dean, puzzled, picks up Sam and opens the door of their motel room. The South Dakota sunlight is blinding and Dean squints. He buckles Sam in his car seat, not without plenty of complaints from Sam about how hot the car is. Dean ignores him because there’s nothing he can do about the temperature.

 

Dad comes outside carrying their bags. He loadsthem into the trunk himself because Dean is not allowed to look in the trunk. Ever. Dean has thought about peeking, but Dad had looked so serious when he laid down the rules that Dean has never dared.

 

Dad gets in the car and starts the engine. Dean feels a thrill go through him when he hears its familiar rumble. He loves the car just as much as Dad does. “Dad, where are we going?”

 

Dad smiles. Dean almost doesn’t believe his own eyes because Dad never smiles. But there he is looking like the world hasn’t screwed him over, for once. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see when we get there.”

 

And now Dean feels like finally, there is something good coming their way. He rolls down his window and Dad pulls out of the motel parking lot. They get on the freeway and Dean just enjoys the wind in his hair all the way to … Bobby’s?

 

They pull up to Singer Auto Salvage Yard and Dad gets out. “C’mon, let’s go. I don’t have all day!”

Dean unbuckles Sam and lifts him into his arms, standing next to the Impala; he’s tense because he thought Dad was taking them to go get ice cream or something fun like that. But now he’s afraid that Dad is going to leave them here for only one week, I promise and come back a month later. Again.

 

“Bobby? Where are you? It’s John Winchester.” Dad knocks and then just picks the lock and opens the door. He’s greeted by a sawed-off shotgun in his face.

 

Bobby relaxes when he sees who’s at the door, but he still waves the gun around in his indignation. “Dammit, John! I almost blew your fool head off, ya idjit! But you might as well come in.” He squints at Dean. “And Dean’s arms look like they’re getting tired.”

 

Dad turns to look at Dean, who has been silently watching the entire encounter. Sometimes Dean thinks that his dad forgets that he’s there. But his arms are getting tired. Sammy is only three and he’s a sasquatch already. But Sam doesn’t have shoes on and Dean can’t just put him down on the gravel driveway.

 

Bobby steps aside so they can enter. Dean puts Sam down as soon as they step across the threshold.

 

Dad drags over a kitchen chair, the legs screeching on the wood floor. He straddles it easily and flashes his winning smile at Bobby, who just leans against the counter and crosses his arms.

 

“So Bobby, I was wondering if you could watch Sam for a while?”

 

Dean didn’t know it was possible for Bobby to look even more suspicious, but somehow he does.

 

“What, can’t you?”

 

“I want to teach Dean to shoot.”

 

Bobby’s expression instantly turns stormy. “John, he’s only seven. Does he really need to know now?”

 

“He needs to know how to defend himself.”

 

Dean suddenly notices that Dad hasn’t looked at him once throughout this whole conversation.

 

“John, that’s your job. You’re his father; it’s your damn responsibility to keep him safe.” Bobby’s voice is steadily getting louder.

 

Dad stands up so quickly that his chair falls over with a bang that makes Dean jump, and Dean feels a sudden twinge of fear. But that’s silly, right? To be scared of your own father?

 

Dad gets right in Bobby’s face and Dean wants to put himself between them, make them stop, but he’s sure that Dad would just yell at him.

 

“What if I’m not there one day? Huh, Bobby? What the hell is Dean supposed to do then? Don’t forget that he has to protect Sam, too! What if I come home one day and find both of my kids murdered because I didn’t teach him how to shoot a goddamned gun?!”

 

Dad whirls around. “Come on, Dean. We’re leaving.” But Dean doesn’t want to leave. Bobby keeps blueberry yogurt in the fridge just because he knows that Dean likes it. The upstairs bedroom, the first one on the left, is Dean’s. Bobby gave him a big bucket of LEGOs that stays in his room and he doesn’t have to share them with Sammy if he doesn’t want to. But Dean can’t say anything.

 

He turns around and follows Dad out the door. He scrubs stray tears from his face because Dad said that he doesn’t want a crybaby son.

 

Dean is silent the entire ride back to the motel. The motel has orange walls and the soap smells like barf. The soap at Bobby’s smells nice.

 

Dad carries Sam into their room and then comes back out without him. Dean moves toward the door, because Dad is just going away to wherever it is he goes to and Dean needs to watch out for Sam. Again.

 

“Dean, wait.” Dean freezes. What did he do? He didn’t say anything at Bobby’s, even though he wanted to.Dean turns around slowly, certain that Dad is going to yell at him and Dean doesn’t even know what he did wrong and the unfairness of it all is pressing against Dean’s skin and the sun is so bright in his eyes—

 

But Dad doesn’t say what Dean expects. “Dean, there are monsters in the world and one of them killed your mother.”

 

Dean’s brain seems to be stuck. “But Mom’s death was an accident. Everyone said that it was some kind of messed up wiring.”

 

“They were wrong. You wanna know where I go all the time? I kill monsters. I’m a hunter.” Dad looks angry, like he’s trying so hard to force this information into Dean but it’s too big, Dean is too small to hold this secret. “Dammit, Dean! Say something!”

 

But Dean’s mouth won’t work. His mother was killed. No accident. Someone wanted to hurt her. On purpose. Maybe their whole family could be dead right now because someone—no, a monster hated them all enough to try to murder them while they slept.

 

What eventually comes out of Dean’s mouth surprises him. “Have you killed it yet?

“Have I what?” Dad looks just as surprised as Dean feels.

 

“Have you killed the monster that killed Mom?” Dean’s mouth doesn’t seem to belong him to him anymore. His insides feel full of ice and his voice sounds like steel, gray and cold.

 

Dean’s words hit Dad like bullets, and he sags like something important inside him is ruined and Dean reminded him. “No, I haven’t. I don’t know what it was or how to find it.”

 

Dean feels big and angry but hollow at the same time, like all his bigness is just empty air. “Try harder.” And then all his bigness goes away, leaving him empty and crumpled like a tissue.

 

Dean turns around and walks into the motel and closes it behind him. Sam is watching his cartoons, so Dean goes to the bathroom and sits in the cold tub.The tile is freezing and Dean leans his forehead against it.

 

Dean opens his eyes and Cas is sitting next to him. Dean studies his friend, all too-big trenchcoat and that stupid blue tie, but just a seven-year-old like him. Cas smiles sadly at him, like he can see all the way inside Dean.

 

“You’re not real.” Dean knows this fact deep inside himself. He feels like he’s been asleep for his whole life and he just woke up.

 

Cas doesn’t say anything, so Dean knows he’s right. Dean would rather go back to sleep if this is what the real world is like. He closes his eyes because then he can pretend that everything is OK.

 

Cas puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean hates that the weight of it still makes him feel better. He can’t bear this anymore, a life where monsters are real and one killed his mother and his daddy hits him once in awhile when he’s drunk and his only friend in the world is imaginary and Dean has to take care of Sammy because no one else will.

 

“I am so very sorry.” Cas finally speaks and his voice sounds so small because no words will fix this and they both know that.

 

Dean pretends that they can, though, and leans into Cas’s side and breathes in his familiar scent of rain and wet flowers. It’s still Dean’s favorite scent and Dean hates the fact that he dreamed up the perfect person who smells exactly like Dean’s favorite smell and Cas doesn’t really exist.

 

They both know that nothing will ever be the same again. But Dean buries his face in Cas’s trench-coated shoulder and pretends like everything's OK.


	6. Valentine's Day

February 14, 1987

 

Cas wakes Dean up by jumping on his bed. Whichis unusual, to say the least.

 

“Dean! Dean! Wake up!”

 

Dean sits up, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “What the heck, Cas?” Dean almost tacks on a reminder to not wake up Sammy, but then he remembers. Right. Cas is imaginary. Sam can’t see or hear him.

 

Cas is kneeling on the bed, breathing right in his face. “Today is Valentine’s Day!”

 

Dean grins. Cas remembered. They’d talked about it before, Dean explaining the idea of people choosing a person to shower with affection and be theirValentine.

 

Cas leans in close until Dean can feel Cas’s breath on his lips. And then Cas kisses him. No spit, just a warm press of lips and then Cas moves away.

 

Dean is left staring until his brain finally catches up with what just happened. “Cas, you can’t kiss me!”

 

Cas is still sitting on the bed, hands anxiously twisting in his lap. “Why not?”

 

Dean is frantically trying to pass this off as another thing that Cas doesn’t understand, instead of whooping about the fact that he just had his first kiss and it was Cas. “Well, because, you can’t kiss someone on the lips until you’re married.” He thinks of the teenagers he’s seen kiss and adds, “Or unless you really, really like someone.”

 

Cas relaxes just a little. “Oh. Well, we’re not married but I really, really like you. Does that count?”

 

Dean is on edge, uncomfortable for a reason he can’t name but he thinks has something to do with the fact that Cas is a boy and not a girl. He laughs nervously and rubs a hand over his mouth. “No, I don’t think it does.”

 

Cas’s face falls. “Oh, I just thought that you were supposed to kiss your Valentine. I didn’t have any candy to give you, so I thought I should kiss you instead. I’m sorry if that was wrong.” He stands up and Dean’s feet feel cold without his warmth.

 

Dean is stuck on the fact that Cas wanted him to be his Valentine. As in Cas, who is pretty (and Dean doesn’t care if boys aren’t supposed to be pretty, because Cas is pretty) enough to have any girl and didn’t have to choose Dean or even remember the holiday at all. But he picked Dean. And now he looks like he’s going to cry and it’s Dean’s fault.

 

Dean throws back his covers and stands up, wincing as his feet hit the icy floor. He takes Cas’s hand and waits until Cas will finally meet his eyes.

 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry. You didn’t know. But seriously, you want me to be your Valentine?”

 

Cas still looks sheepish but he sounds certain when he answers. “Of course. You’re my best friend, and I sorta wanted to kiss you, as well.”

 

“Well, just so you know, you should ask someone to be your Valentine first.” Dean is teasing, just a little.

 

Cas just nods. And then his face goes completely serious. “Dean Winchester, will you do me the honor of being my Valentine?”

 

Dean feels like Cas just proposed and firmly stomps on any resulting butterflies. “Of course, Cas.”

 

Cas leans in and he pauses. “May I kiss you?”

 

Dean wants to see Cas happy, so he figures sure, why not? “OK, but just once.”

 

Cas kisses him, still just a brief press of lips and a smile, and then they both go about the day as normal and neither one ever brings it up again. But Dean thinks about the kiss all day.


	7. A Forgotten Birthday

January 24, 1991

 

Twelve-year-old Dean pulls the mac’n’cheese out of the microwave. It’s steaming hot and Dean burns himself as he grabs it, but he somehow manages to set it down without spilling it everywhere. He recoils the earliest moment he physically can and waves his abused hand around like an idiot. “Shit, shit, shit!”

 

After another moment of strangled swearing, he manages, “Sam! Food’s ready!” He’s glad that Sam didn’t see that little moment of indignity.

 

Sam emerges from his TV marathon, grabs the food, and disappears again. Dean refuses to be hurt that Sam didn’t even say thank you.

 

Dean breathes a tiny sigh. There’s only enough food for Sam tonight. Dad’s been gone for almost three weeks hunting a rugaru and food is running low. Dean is going to have to go to the store and steal something tomorrow so they can eat. Dean hates stealing.

 

He turns to the faucet, first running cold water over his hand, then drinking for a long time to try to ward off any hunger pains. Might as well, considering that tap water is his dinner tonight.

 

When Dean pauses and wipes his mouth, he discovers Cas watching him intently. “Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hey, Cas. How’s it going?” Cas looks different. He’s taller and his trench coat seems to fit better. When did that happen?

 

“Dean, what have you had to eat today?”

 

“So, Cas, I was wondering if you wanted to watch theBack To The Future movies with me? There’s a special on tonight.”

 

“Dean, do not play games with me. Answer me.”

 

“Cas, what the hell do you care?”

 

Cas looks ready to kill. “I care because I do not wish to see you starve to death!”

 

Dean is suddenly furious as well. “Well damn, Cas, you want the truth? Not a goddamned bite all day!”

 

Cas looks puzzled. “But you had school today. Couldn’t you eat lunch there?”

 

“What a nice thought, Cas! Don’t you think I thought of that? Dad’s money is all gone so I couldn’t buy anything and the food is all gone, too, so I couldn’t bring food, so tomorrow I have to shoplift like a fucking thief so Sam doesn’t starve to death before Dad comes back!” Dean is panting by the time he’s done. He didn’t even realize he was this angry until now.

 

Cas looks utterly miserable and Dean feels like a piece of shit for yelling at him. “But today is your birthday.”

 

Dean completely forgot. Today is his twelfth birthday and no one remembered. Not his “friends,” not his teachers, not Sam, not his dad. Absolutely no one remembered that today is his birthday. Except Cas. Cas is the only person in the whole goddamned world who remembered his fucking birthday and he’s not even real.

 

Dean thinks he’s going to cry. Not the manly sniffle and one or two stray tears. No, it’s going to be the full-on ugly cry with snot everywhere and tears that you can’t make stop and a hideous red face. Do not cry. Do not cry. DO NOT CRY. Of course, he doesn’t listen to himself and the tears start falling. It is his birthday and Dean hasn’t eaten all day and his hand hurts and no one remembered.

 

Cas steps forward and wraps his arms around Deanas he cries.

 

“Seems like every time we talk, I end up in tears,” Dean remarks ruefully.

 

Cas pulls away, searching his face. “Do you, um, do you want me to go?” Cas looks like he’s trying to resign himself to the idea.

 

Something in Dean twists at the idea of Cas leaving. “Absolutely not. Don’t you dare.” He wraps his arms around Cas even tighter. “Don’t leave me, please.”

 

“But all I do is make you upset.” Cas looks devastated and Dean thinks he sees a stray tear.

 

“That’s OK. Because then you always make me feel a little better, too. But, you know, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to keep coming back.” Dean suddenly feels terrified that Cas really will leave and then no one in the whole world will care about him. But he has to give Cas the choice.

 

Cas recoils. “What? Why would I want to do that?”

 

Dean’s tongue feels heavy with the sick anticipation of grief, but he struggles to form words. “Well, I don’t know how it works. How can you be here sometimes and sometimes you’re not?”

 

Cas sways and his breathing becomes panicked. Dean wraps an arm around his waist and makes him sit down on the ground because there’s no chairs. Dean’s mouth suddenly has no filter as he babbles out damage control: “You know Cas, you don’t have to tell me. You can go. Seriously, it’s OK. You don’t need to always babysit me.”

 

“Dean … please … stop … talking.”

 

Dean shuts up and waits for Cas to get his breath back. He holds Cas and tries to memorize the feel of his body, the scratch of that ridiculous trench coat he always wears, the softness of his messy hair. Because this is it. Cas has finally gotten tired of his constant bullshit and he’s going to leave for good this time. Dean doesn’t know how he’ll manage to survive this, but he’s got to. For Sammy.

 

Cas finally gets his breathing under control. And Dean panics. He freezes, waiting for the deathblow. But it doesn’t come. Yet. Cas just leans his head on Dean’s shoulder, like he’s trying to prepare himself for something awful.

 

“Dean, I guess I owe you some answers. And don’t interrupt me until I’m finished, please. I guess the best way to describe it … well, I have a mirror that I can step through to get to you. I can always see you and I can feel when you want me.”

 

“What do you do all the time when you’re not with me?”

 

Cas sighs. “Nothing very interesting. It’s much more fun to be with you.”

 

Dean feels a tiny bit better, but he’s still afraid. “Once you leave, you don’t have to come back, right?”

 

Cas freezes but he tries to answer. “You’re right. I am technically not bound to keep coming back. I could leave and, I suppose, not come back.” Cas is shaking and he can barely get the words out.

 

Dean can barely breathe because this is it. Cas wants to leave but he doesn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings. Dean has to be the unselfish one here and let Cas go. “Cas, just relax. It’s—it’s OK. You can go. I don’t want to make you stay.”

 

Cas turns horrified eyes on him. “Oh. I see. OK. If that’s what you want.” He stands up and takes a step toward the door and suddenly Dean finally puts two and two together.

 

He jumps up and grabs Cas’s wrist.“Wait! Cas, don’t you dare leave. What did you mean, if that’s what I want?”

 

Cas looks like the weight of the world is slowly crushing him. “I do not wish to make you unhappy. If my presence is unwelcome, I will leave you in peace immediately.”

 

“What? No! I— Cas, listen. I love having you around. I do not want you to go flit off and leave me. I was only asking if you wanted to leave, like for forever. If you do, I won’t stop you.”

 

Cas looks like it’s his birthday, Christmas, and Halloween all at once. “Of course I want to stay. I miss you all the time.”

 

And now Dean’s mouth goes and does something reckless. “Then stay.” And now Dean is mentally kicking himself because Cas won’t want to be aroundall the time, dealing with Dean’s shit.

 

But Cas surprises him by perking up like a sprout when the sun’s out. “May I? Stay with you more often?”

 

And then a dark and anxious flower blooms to life in Dean’s chest, a whisper of you’re not good enough, he’ll leave eventually, you’re poison, you’ll destroy him. But Dean shoves it all down and smiles, a four-fifths of the way there sort of smile, and answers, “Of course, Cas.”

 

And then Cas sings “Happy Birthday,” and they watch Sam’s TV show, all three of them together. Sam can’t see Cas but that’s OK for right now. Dean is still starving and his hand stings, but he looks at his brother and his best friend together and safe, and he feels OK.


	8. Christmas

December 1, 1993

 

“Dean, I want to get a Christmas tree.” Ten-year-old Sam looks up with his patented puppy-dog eyes.

 

Fourteen-year-old Dean sighs. They’re in Montana while Dad hunts a wendigo. It’s freezing and snows every day and Sammy only has a proper winter coatbecause Dean works after school five days a week. They barely have enough money for microwave meals, let alone a Christmas tree. But Sam deserves a nice Christmas.

 

“OK. But we have to steal one.”

 

Sam frowns. “But I thought that stealing was wrong.”

 

Dean internally curses. What the hell kind of mixed messages is he sending this poor kid?

 

“Well, it is. But you said you wanted a Christmas tree and we don’t have enough money to buy one. So, it’s your choice if we steal one or not.”

 

Sam frowns and thinks for a long time. “I think that we shouldn’t steal one. That wouldn’t be right.”

 

Dean smiles. Even in the hunting life and poor as dirt, Sammy has a heart of gold. “OK, but I think that we can still celebrate Christmas.”

 

“How?”

 

“Well, let’s see. Lemme ask if Cas has any ideas.” Dean turns around to call Cas.

 

“Who’s Cas?”

 

Oh shit. This is it. Dean has really screwed up this time. Now he gets to explain to his little brother how his older brother still, in ninth grade, has an imaginary friend.

 

“Um, well, you see—”

 

“Girl or boy?”

 

“Boy. Wait, what?”

 

Sam suddenly looks calculating. “He’s your boyfriend, right?”

 

Dean nearly chokes on his own spit. “I’m not gay!”

 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean, you know I don’t care if you like boys as well as girls, right? But if you have a boyfriend, I wanna meet him. If he’s not nice—” Sam holds up a fist.

 

Dean cannot believe this conversation. He has an imaginary friend and Sam thinks he’s gay and is threatening to beat up anyone who breaks Dean’s heart.

 

But being gay is easier than explaining that he’s crazy, because anyone in ninth grade who has an imaginary friend  is definitely crazy. Dean’s made his peace with that fact. Cas has always been there for him and Dean sure as hell doesn’t want him going away.

 

“Yeah, OK. You guessed it. He’s my boyfriend. But you can’t meet him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“He’s, um, really shy. I guess you could say that I’m the only one that he talks to.”

 

Sam winks. “Oh, OK. Have you guys kissed yet?”

 

“Oh God. Sam, no. Just stop. Whatever Cas and I do is our business. OK? Let’s just put up some red and green paper and forget I ever mentioned Cas?”

 

“Yeah, I got it. I just wish we didn’t have to steal all the time. I wish we had some honest money. I want to be rich someday.”

 

Dean looks at his little brother, just full of brains and potential. “OK. You can do it. You can get a job that makes a lot of money, like a doctor or a lawyer.”

 

Sam’s eyes light up and Dean knows that nothing will stop Sam from accomplishing his goals.

 

Later, Dean lies in his bed, listening to Sam’s quiet breathing. Sam hadn’t been satisfied until the whole room was full of paper chains and snowflakes made out of paper towels. Dean would deny it to his dying day, but he actually likes the decorations. They kinda remind him of Christmas time with Mom.

 

Dean can’t get the thought of Cas being his boyfriend out of his mind. Dean could finally get to taste those perpetually chapped pink lips. Breathe in his scent at night. Make Cas laugh about the stupidest things. They could even—

 

No, no, no. Dean mentally shakes himself. Dean is straight. As in he likes girls. Only girls. No boys. Besides, Cas is imaginary. Cas is not real.

 

And Dean doesn’t get to have good things. He’s a grunt. He helps Dad hunt and that’s all he’s ever going to do. Sam’s going to go to college and marry a beautiful wife and make bags of money. All Dean can see in his future is dying bloody at the claws of some monster. Futures are for people who are actually worth something.


	9. A Fracture

March 8, 1995

 

The motel room is quiet when sixteen-year-old Dean silently lets himself in. Sammy’s light breathing and Dad’s gruff almost-snoring masks any scratch of the lock. It’s almost two in the morning and Dean feels a little guilty for coming back so late.

 

But any guilt is masked by the glorious, awesome fact that he just had sex. For the first time. And it was so great, Dean thinks that he’ll be walking on air for a week. He calls up an image of the girl, all smooth curves and creamy skin. He doesn’t know her name and he left before she woke up. He’ll probably be on his way out of town by the end of the week, as soon as he and Dad kill the vampire, so there’s no point in forming a relationship.

 

Cas appears right in front of him, their noses almost touching, and nearly makes him yelp. “Dammit, Cas!”

 

Cas tilts his head and damn if that doesn’t make him look like the most adorable puppy. “I don’t understand. Did I surprise you?” He has just the shadow of stubble on his jaw and Dean has to swallow down something thick in his throat at the sight of it.

 

“That’s it. Come on.” Dean grabs Cas’s elbow and drags him outside.

 

“Look at the stars.” Cas’s face is so awed that Dean looks up too.

 

The sky is a thick navy blanket with tiny pinpricks of light. Dean’s eyes automatically find the Big Dipper, the only constellation he knows. He feels better just seeing it there.

 

Dean plops down on the cold concrete and Cas joins him. Cas is pressed up right against Dean’s side, warm and comforting.

 

“What did you do today?”

 

Dean freezes at the question. He was originally planning to brag to Cas all about his “achievement,” but now he feels strangely like he cheated. And Dean is not a cheater. “Oh, you know, just the usual stuff. You were there.”

“I was there at school. And then we came back here and had a snack. And then Sam fell asleep at ten. But then you said that you wanted to go do something by yourself, so I left. And now you’re back. So I was just wondering what you did for”—Cas checks his watch—“four hours.” Cas’s tone is still casual and nonchalant, but there’s a deeper undercurrent that Dean can’t identify.

 

Dean’s insides feel like they’re full of ice. There’s no way out of this. Cas won’t stop asking questions unless Dean gives him an answer. Dean inhales sharply, trying to steel himself. “I had sex.”

 

Cas looks like Dean just slapped him across the face. “Oh, I see.” And then Cas disappears.

 

Dean is left alone underneath the night sky, with the yellow motel lights bathing the cold concrete sidewalk. He stands there for a long, long time before he goes back inside and closes the door.


	10. Werewolves

October 28, 1997

 

It’s Dean’s fault.

 

It was Sammy’s very first hunt, only because Deanhad begged Dad to spare Sam as long as they could. But this time Dad said that the werewolf pack was too big for two people to handle; he insisted that this time, Sam was coming.

 

As they crept around the corners of the abandoned house the wolves were squatting in, Dean was so focused on watching Sam’s back that he didn’t even notice the wolf about to attack him until it was too late.

 

Now, Dean can’t get the wolf off of him. Its teeth are everywhere, snapping and tearing, and Dean thinks he can smell blood that’s probably his and the beast’s thick rank breath is right in his face and—

 

Bang.

 

Everything suddenly goes still. Dean lies there and looks at the ceiling. He can see a water stain and thinks the people who used to live there really should have taken better care of their roof.

 

Dad shoves the wolf off Dean and Dean appreciates that. Dad holds his hand out to help Dean up, but there are about three hands swimming in front of him and Dean doesn’t know which one to grab. Dean closes his eyes because everything is honestly less confusing that way and everything hurts.

 

Sam sounds panicked and Dad is talking to Sam, but Dean can’t quite make out what they’re saying. Dean can still smell blood and his side feels like it’s on fire.

 

“Dean.”

 

Dean knows that voice. He opens his eyes, only to get lost in crystal blue. “Heya, Cas.” His throat feels thick and tight. Dean closes his eyes again because keeping them open is too much work.

 

Cas kneels by Dean’s uninjured side and cups his face. “Dean, wake up. Talk to me.”

Dean wants to answer. He really does. But his limbs feel like they’re full of lead and Dean just wants to drift away. He’s so tired. Dean feels like this is it. Finally. He’s going to die at eighteen and he didn’t even have to do it himself. How convenient.

 

“Dean.”

 

Dean manages to pry his eyes open to see Cas nearly nose to nose with him.

 

“Dean, please. If you die, what am I supposed to do?”

 

That snaps Dean’s thoughts back to himself. Cas isscared. Cas doesn’t deserve to die like Dean. Dean is replaceable. There are better hunters out there and Dean is stupid. But. Cas is smart and pretty and deserves to be real and live a real life without Dean.

 

Suddenly Dad is there, rough hands pushing Dean’s shirt up and examining the claw marks. Dean can’t see them, but Cas sucks in a breath in surprise.

 

Cas seems to steady himself. “Dean, talk to me. What’s your favorite color?”

 

The grim hope in Cas’s voice feels like acid. “Cas, what’s the point? Imma just die anyways. Be nice to die. Not have to worry anymore. Be outta everybody’s way.”

 

“Dean, tell me. Your favorite color. Now.”

 

Dean thinks for a moment. “Blue,” he coughs around a mouthful of blood.

 

Cas looks shaken at the sight of the blood, but he doesn’t let up. “OK, good. What’s your favorite food?”

 

Dean actually smiles at that. “Pie. You know that, Cas. You’ve seen me chow down enough times.”

 

Cas smiles too, a weak watery smile. “Yeah, I do. “

 

Dad lifts Dean suddenly and it hurts. Dad is carrying him while Cas is holding his hand. But someone’s missing. “Sammy. Cas, is Sammy OK?”

 

Cas looks over his shoulder at Sam trailing behind. “Yeah, Dean. He’s OK. You saved him.”

 

Dean closes his eyes in relief and everything goes black.

 

 

 

 

 

Dean wakes up in a hospital bed. Late afternoon sunlight streams through a window, illuminating apull-out cot and two chairs beside his bed. Cas is sitting in one of them.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

“Heya, Cas.”

 

Their eyes meet, green and blue, and Cas is looking at Dean like he’s the world. With a flash,  Dean realizes that something is about to happen, but then Dad and Sam walk in and Cas fades away.

 

They’re both holding cheap cups of coffee and Sam looks depressed. But his face lights up when he sees that Dean is awake.

 

“Dean!” He plops himself down in a chair and takes Dean’s hand. “Are you OK?”

 

Dean looks at his hopeful fourteen-year-old, shaggy-haired brother. Dean’s side hurts like hell and the disinterest in Dad’s eyes stings like acid and Dean aches for something he can’t name but he thinks that it’s the taste of Cas’s mouth and Dean decides that he is the farthest possible thing away from OK.

 

“Yeah, Sammy. I’m OK.”


	11. Beatings

November 7, 1997

 

Dean’s channel surfing when Dad finally asks.

 

Dad stumbles in and Dean can tell that he’s drunk off his ass. Dad plops down on a bed and watches baseball with Dean for a minute. Then he says it: “Who’s Cas?”

 

Dread starts to pool in Dean’s stomach. This is it. “Um, what?”

 

“When you got attacked by that wolf last week, you were talking to someone named Cas.”

 

“Um, no one. I was probably just delirious.” Dean shifts in his seat. He’s glad that Sam’s at school so he doesn’t have to see this.

 

Dad leans forward, lost in thought. “Wait a minute. Didn’t you have an imaginary friend when you were little?”

 

“Um, did I? I don’t remember.”

 

“Dean, do you still have an imaginary friend?”

 

Dean laughs nervously. “No way.”

 

Dad stands up and Dean cringes. “For God’s sake, Dean, you’re eighteen! What the hell?”

 

Dean checks his watch. “You know, Dad, it’s almost time to pick up Sam. I should go.” It’s only one o’clock, but Dean’s grasping at straws here.

 

“No, you’re going to stay here and explain to me how you still have an imaginary friend at eighteen. Now stand up and face me like a man.”

 

Dean stands and, for the first time, realizes that he’s as tall as Dad. He is just as strong as him now, too.Dean could leave; he doesn’t need to be afraid of Dad anymore. 

 

But Sam can’t leave. Sam is only fourteen and he’s not old enough to run away by himself. And if Dean took Sam with him, Dad could have Dean arrested for kidnapping.

 

So, Dean doesn’t run or hit back as Dad’s first punch connects with his jaw. Because this is for Sam. For Sam, he thinks as punches steal the breath out of his lungs. For Cas, he thinks as his face hits the rough carpet. How poetic, Dean thinks, taking a beating for the people he loves best, even if one of them is imaginary. It’s his last thought before Dean passes out.


	12. The End

April 3, 1999

 

God, Dean hates hospitals. He hates them so fucking much. Hospitals are where Dean carries in his little brother, with half his organs hanging out, and begs strangers  to save him. Hospitals are where John calls him a fuckup for not seeing the damn wendigo until it was too late. As if Dean wasn’t already telling himself the same thing. It’s his fault for not protecting Sammy.

 

The fluorescent lights are killing him, so Dean excuses himself to go to the bathroom. He splashes cold water on his face and when he looks up, Cas is behind him. Dean jumps about a mile.

 

“Dammit, Cas! Don’t scare me like that! Not when my nerves are so damn frayed already.”

 

“I apologize, Dean. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought that perhaps you could use my support right now.”

 

And of course Dean needs Cas’s support. He needs Cas. Period. End of story. He’s long accepted that without Cas, there is no Dean. Imaginary or not, Cas gives Dean the strength to get out of bed every morning.

 

So Dean turns around and folds Cas into his arms and just savors the feel of him. The rustle of the tan trench coat that Dean somehow hasn’t ever asked about, the silkiness of his messy black hair. Dean marvels that, after all these years, Cas still smells like the rain.

 

Cas just sighs a little and seems to nuzzle into Dean. Dean’s pretty sure that he doesn’t smell that great. He’s sweaty and probably smells like dead wendigo. But Cas just leans into him anyway. They stand there for a long time. Dean knows that if anyone walked in right now they’d just see Dean hugging empty air, buthe really doesn’t give a flying fuck right now. Cas is here and he’s … 

 

Dean doesn’t know exactly what Cas is to him. Dean suddenly thinks that he would like to marry Cas and immediately tries to squash the thought. You can’t marry someone who’s imaginary. But Dean can see it all. He and Cas would get away from John and buy a little fixer-upper in the suburbs. Dean’s good with his hands and he could fix whatever they needed. Cas likes to cook and he’d make apple pie in theevening, ready for when Dean got home from work. Maybe they’d adopt a kid. They’d raise him or her to be smart like Sam and kind like Cas and keep them safe from the taint of the hunting life. Dean could invite Sam to come have barbecues in the backyard and Dean would make hamburgers and complain about the flies to Cas and Cas would just kiss him to make him shut up.

 

Dean can see it all so clearly that his chest aches. Because Dean can’t have that. Because Cas isn’t real. And right now, that fact feels like it’s ripping Dean into tiny pieces. If a djinn found him right now, Dean would hold his arm out for the IV. Anything to make this impossible future stop feeling like acid in his veins. A sob claws its way up his throat before he can stop it. And of course Cas hears it.

 

Cas pulls away and stares at Dean, crystal pools full of concern. “Dean, what is it? It’s all right. Sam will be fine.”

 

Oh God. Dean literally forgot all about his little brother who is still in the goddamned hospital. And if that doesn’t make Dean the worst piece of shit to ever draw breath, he doesn’t know what does.

 

“Oh God. Sam, too.”

 

Cas’s forehead crinkles in confusion and damn if it doesn’t make him look adorable. “What do you mean, ‘Sam, too’? What else is wrong?”

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? If Dean started listing everything that was wrong in his short, shitty life, they’d be standing in this cold bathroom all fucking night.

 

Dean forces a smile even though it feels as fake as a mask. “Nothing else, Cas.”

 

Cas doesn’t look convinced, though. “You’re lying.What can I do?”

 

And Dean just wants to die, because if Dean tells Cas what he wants, it will break them both. Because Cas can’t give that to him. Cas doesn’t love him that way. And that’s killing Dean.

 

Because now Dean finally fucking gets it. He’s in love with his best friend. Who is imaginary. But Cas doesn’t love him back. And even if he did, he’s not real. So that’s it. The shitty end to the doomed love of Dean Winchester.

 

What do I do? Nothing. Because Dean always wants the things he can’t have. He wants his mother to hold him one more time, he wants a house of his own, he wants kids with Cas, he wants to not always be looking over his shoulder for monsters, he wants Sam to be safe and happy, he wants to have a father he’s not afraid of, he wants to sleep in a bed that doesn’t hurt his back, he wants his own room, he wants eight hours of sleep for once, he wants to kiss Cas, he wants, he wants, he wants. Dean Winchester is a creature of want and he’s been living on scraps for years.

 

And here is Cas, looking at him like he’s actually worth something, like he actually cares what happens to him. Cas looks like he wants to give Dean the world. And Dean can’t stand it.

 

But Cas is still waiting for an answer. So Dean lies through his teeth. “There’s this girl I really like. And she’s really pretty, but I don’t think that she likes me too. And Cas, I think that I want to marry her.”

 

All the light seems to leave Cas’s eyes. “Oh, I see. What’s her, um, name?”

 

Dean scrambles for a name because he doesn’t want a girl, he wants Cas. “Um, Lisa.”

 

Cas just nods.

 

And Dean doesn’t understand. This is Cas’s chance to leave, stop being the support for Dean’s wellspring of issues. But Cas isn’t taking the hint. So Dean decides. He can feel the grief starting to wash through him already, but he keeps it at bay. Later. This is what’s best for Cas. Cas deserves to spend his life with someone who doesn’t hate themselves, someone who can be with him without worrying about being killed by monsters. In other words, not Dean. And that is what Dean tells himself as he musters up the courage to do this.

 

“Cas, I don’t want to be around you anymore. I’m too old for an imaginary friend. I don’t want the girl, I mean, Lisa, to find out about you. So now you can find someone else, be their imaginary friend instead.”

 

Cas just stands there. His face is blank and empty, like he’s far away. And Dean feels like there’s acid slowly trickling through his veins. If lying is a sin, then this is what will send Dean to hell. And so he waits, the bathroom absolutely still and silent, until he can’t bear it any longer. Dean can’t look at Cas’s face. He’s so expressionless, that it looks like he’s wearing a mask. “Cas?”

 

And then Cas blinks and something flashes like lightning behind his eyes. Like a thunderstorm when it finally arrives. Cas turns around, so Dean can’t see his face and is left staring at his rigid shoulders.

 

“I understand, Dean. Thank you for telling me of your wishes. I apologize that my presence is unwelcome. I will not trouble you again.”

 

Dean is left staring as he tries to understand. “Wait, Cas, you know, you could come visit once in awhile, just to say hi.”

 

Cas still hasn’t turned around and he doesn’t seem to have moved a muscle. “Dean, I feel that it would be better if we remained separate permanently.”

 

Dean turns his back too, because he doesn’t know what his face looks like right now and Cas can’t see that Dean is just inches from rock bottom. So there they stand, each facing away from the other and with a gap of about three feet between them. No chance of us touching, Dean muses bitterly.

 

“OK.”

 

“Goodbye, Cas.”

 

There’s a tiny pause, full of all the things they’ve never said.

 

“Goodbye, Dean.”

 

When Dean turns around, Cas is gone.

 

Dean finds a wall to lean on because he doesn’t think that his legs will support him. He stands there, mind blank and empty. And after a long time, Dean decides that he would like to die. He won’t kill himself because Sam needs him. But Dean doesn’t want to live in a world without Cas.

 

Dean straightens and walks out to the waiting room. John is grumbling about what took so damn long. Dean ignores him and sits in a hard wooden chair. His spine is straight and his expression neutral. When the doctor comes out and tells them that Sam will be fine, Dean can’t even muster a sense of relief. Healing a paper cut does nothing for a man too shattered to remember to breathe.


	13. Sam Leaves

August 15, 2002

 

Twenty-three-year-old Dean takes a deep breath. He’s known this day was coming for a long time, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.

 

The bus pulls up to the curb and Dean stands up, anxious for something to do to ease this loss gnawing at his bones. He hands Sam his duffle bag, the same one Sam’s been living out of his entire life. It’s navy leather and Dean can’t help but hope that Sam will still keep it, even if he’s not hunting anymore.

 

Sam turns to Dean, his eyes suddenly full of uncertainty. Dean wishes he could exploit that, convince Sam to stay, but this is what Sam wants, and so Dean has to let him go. Sam can protect himself now.

 

Dean folds his little brother, all grown up, into his arms and sternly tells himself not to cry. Sam needs to go, get away from Dad, learn new things that Dean can’t even dream of.

 

The last call for boarding blares, and so, reluctantly, Dean lets go. “Stay safe.” It’s not a request.

 

Sam nods. “Jerk.”

 

Dean actually smiles at that. “Bitch.”

 

They both stare at each other a moment longer, memorizing each other, and then Sam gets on the bus.

 

Dean turns away. He walks slowly, his footsteps heavy. Samisgonesamisgonesamisgone. He reaches the Impala and sinks into the driver’s seat. Dean rests his forehead on the steering wheel, the familiar leather comforting him just a little.

 

Dean pulls out his cell phone and types, I’m never coming back. Don’t try to find me or Sam ever again.Because this is it: Sam is safe now; Dean can leave. He doesn’t have to stay with John anymore or hunt if he doesn’t want to. Twenty-three years that Dean has spent dealing with John and his harsh words, beatings, and neglect. And Sam never knew about most of it. Dean protected him well. And now Dean has no idea what to do. But he sends the text to John before he can second-guess himself.

 

A knock at his window has him reaching for the revolver in his waistband, until he sees the perfectly normal human guy at his window. Dean opens the door and steps out, hand still cautiously near his hidden weapon.

 

“Hello there, brother. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. My name’s Benny. You just seem upset. Y’all right?”

 

Dean considers. He should not be trusting a random stranger. It goes against all his hunter instincts. But Dean doesn’t really give a damn right now.

 

“No, actually. My brother just left for college and we were really close.” Dean puts on his most charming smile. It’s fake as a mask, but it certainly works.

 

Benny looks caught off guard, but he recovers quickly with a blinding smile of his own. “Well then, I would like to treat you to lunch to help you recover, if you don’t mind.”

 

A memory of Cas’s shy smile, of sky blue eyes looking at Dean up through tangled lashes, rises to the center of Dean’s mind. He ruthlessly shoves it back down. He can’t think of Cas right now or he’ll break.

 

“I would love to.”


	14. A Mistake

April 16, 2002

 

Dean wakes up with Benny’s arm draped around his waist. He inhales and carefully shifts away. Benny doesn’t stir. Dean sits up and hugs his knees to his chest.

 

He can’t decide exactly what to feel. He and Benny ate lunch yesterday, and Benny asked him questions about himself and Dean lied the entire time. Dean should have just left. But then they watched a movie. Dean can’t remember the name, but Benny slid an arm around Dean’s shoulders and Dean let him. And when Benny kissed him, Dean let him do that, too. And then they had sex and Dean let that happen, too. The ache of his hips leaves no room for denial of that fact.

 

A nasty voice inside of him whispers, So you’re allowed to get it up for a stranger, but not Cas. The worst part is that Dean knows just what kind of bullshit logic that is. The fact that Dean even kinda enjoyed it makes him feel even more despicable.

 

Benny stirs, blinking heavy lids. “Dean?”

 

Dean takes a deep breath. “Yeah?”

 

“You want some breakfast?”

 

Dean blinks. He was not expecting that. “Um, actually yeah. What do you want?”

 

Benny seems taken aback. “I’m not going to make you cook, Dean. Geez, you’re my guest. What doyou want?”

 

Dean considers. “Um, bacon, I guess, if you have it. And, uh, eggs?”

 

Benny nods. “Yeah, of course. Do you wanna shower while I make food?”

 

Dean ponders the fact that someone is making himbreakfast. The last person to make him breakfast was Mom. His eyes start stinging suspiciously so he just ducks into the bathroom without answering for a moment of privacy.

 

Dean flicks on the hot water and feels his muscles instantly relax. He honestly has no idea what he’s doing right now. He’s showering in the house of a guyhe met yesterday. Talk about moving too fast; this is more like a relationship on 5X the speed. They hadsex. Dean hasn’t had sex since that first time, when he was sixteen. Not because he’s a prude, but becauseDean couldn’t get Cas’s hurt expression when Dean told him about it out of his head. And now he’s gone and done the nasty with a stranger. Who’s a dude.

 

Dean flinches. He can hear John’s comments offucking good-for-nothing fags ringing in his ears. What would he do if he knew Dean liked guys too? Because he does. Dean finally admits that to himself as he reaches for the shampoo.

 

“I’m bisexual,” he mutters. There. He came out. To Old Spice body wash and generic shampoo.

 

Dean finishes showering quickly and shuts off the water, shivering in the cold morning air. He dries off and just puts his own clothes back on, his worn-out jeans and his AC/DC shirt. Even if they don’t smell as fresh as he’d like, they’re armor and Dean feels safer with them on.

 

He creeps down to the kitchen where Benny is frying eggs and whistling. The scene makes his heart clench. This is what he’s wanted for so long. But not with Benny. Dean closes his eyes. He’s got to do this. It’s not fair to either of them to keep this going.

 

Benny turns and smiles when he sees Dean. “Hey. I got coffee brewing and the bacon and eggs are almost done. Grab a plate and we’ll dig in.” He turns back to the stove and starts whistling again. Dean recognizes the song as “Ramble On” by Led Zeppelin. His heart clenches—it’s his favorite Zeppelin song.

 

“Benny, I’m sorry.”

The whistle dies on Benny’s lips. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’m…. Well, I—”

 

Benny just nods. “I understand. You don’t want to be with me.”

Dean gestures helplessly. “I’m in love with someone else. I’m so sorry. I feel like such a dick.”

 

Benny just sighs ruefully. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

 

“I think I’ll just—I’m just going to go—”

 

“No, stay for breakfast. I already made enough for two. You might as well eat before you leave.”

 

Thus follows the most awkward breakfast Dean has ever endured. (That includes the time Sam put orange juice in John’s coffee before Dean could stop him so Dean had just sat there, waiting for the fateful moment when John would taste it and start yelling.)

 

They eat in silence broken only by the occasional “Please pass the syrup.” Dean helps with the dishes. It’s a habit ingrained in him by years of having to do any and all chores by himself.

 

Before he leaves, Dean tries one more time: “I’m so sorry, Benny.”

 

Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “It’s OK. Just go, Dean.”

 

So Dean leaves.

 

He starts the Impala and drives and drives and drives. He rolls his window down while he’s driving in a forest just to smell the pine trees and clean lakes. It makes him feel just a little bit better.

 

He finally winds up in Montana and by then it’s midnight. He finds a cheap motel to stay at and forks over some cash, noting that he’s almost out. He needs to start credit scamming or playing pool again because it’ll be a cold day in hell before he asks John for money.

 

Dean strips to his boxers and undershirt and climbs into bed, thanking all the gods of rock and roll that the sheets are clean. He lies there in the dark, just thinking. It’s been four years since Cas left.

 

Dean vividly remembers the first hunt he’d gone on after that horrible night in the hospital bathroom. Dean had barely even bothered to watch his back or be careful. He’d ended up having his back clawed to ribbons and he’d just laid there, face down in the dirt, thinking, Thank God I don’t have to live without him any longer.

 

Sam had found him and hauled him to his feet. When Dean closes his eyes, he remembers Sam’s panicked face, but his clearest memory is the overwhelming disappointment that he was still alive. Dean still feels that every time he wakes up in the morning.

 

Dean doesn’t know how to make Cas come back. It wasn’t like Dean made him do anything. Cas came when he felt like it and didn’t show up if he didn’t, probably when he needed a break from Dean’s constant bullshit. And now Cas thinks that Dean’s sittin’ pretty with some girl named Lisa. Dean almost wishes that he were with someone, just to make this weight on his chest a little lighter. But he doesn’t want anyone but Cas.

 

Dean punches his pillow and rolls over. Maybe he’ll be able to get four hours of sleep tonight. If not, there’s always coffee.


	15. A Remembered Birthday

January 24, 2003

 

Dean’s freezing. All he wanted was some booze and pie so he could pretend that someone cares about his birthday. Looks like frostbite is his gift from the universe. He parks outside some liquor store that sells snacks and dashes to the door, trying to be as quick as possible because he hasn’t bought a coat yet this year. 

 

Dean grabs some generic beer and some Jack Daniel’s whiskey and turns around to grab some pie. But then he sees him. And Dean drops all his bottles. Broken glass goes flying and the teenage clerk gives him a dirty look and goes to grab a broom and mop. Meanwhile, Dean only has eyes for the man in the front of the store.

 

He steps inside, falling snow dusting his head and shoulders, and looks around warily. Like he’s looking for someone. And something that’s been clenched tight around Dean’s ribs for years finally relaxes.

 

Dean steps over the glass and walks forward until they’re only about ten feet apart. And then Cas finally sees him. Dean has never seen a sunrise so radiant as Cas’s smile at that moment.

 

Dean takes another step forward and Cas does too. And then they’re both stumbling forward until Dean’s arms are firmly around him and it’s like Dean can finally breath for the first time in five years. Some small corner of his mind notes that they’re the same height now.

 

The clerk comes back, fresh from sweeping up the glass, and notices Dean, who looks like he’s got his arms around empty air. Dean drops his arms reluctantly, fumbling for some quick excuse.

 

“When you two are done, you need to pay for those bottles.”

 

Dean thinks that this must be the real-life equivalent of a record scratch. “What?”

 

“Dude, didn’t you hear me? I said, when you guys are done with all the heart eyes[a][b], you gotta pay for the bottles you smashed.”

 

Dean’s brain still seems to be stuck on you guys. “You can see him?”

 

The clerk rolls his eyes, and Dean notices absently that his name tag says Alfie. “Yeah, I can see him.”

 

The clerk, Alfie, is looking right at Cas. As in he’s looking at Cas and he can see him. He’s not imaginary. Dean’s pretty sure he stops breathing.

 

Alfie looks faintly concerned, glancing back and forth from Dean to Cas. This time he talks to at Cas. “Is heOK?”

 

Cas slips an arm around Dean’s waist and Dean’s skin feels like it’s on fire.

 

“He’ll be all right. And I’ll pay.”

 

Dean’s legs almost give out when Cas speaks for the first time. Cas just grips him tighter and pays one-handed. Cas hands over more money than necessary and Alfie looks confused until Cas explains they’re buying more things. Cas scoops up two pies, an apple and a cherry, and pushes open the door.

 

Dean’s feet follow him without conscious thought into the whirling snow and over to the Impala. Cas guides Dean into the passenger seat and then sits in the driver’s seat.

 

Cas is suddenly right in his face, blue eyes startling in the dim light. “Dean, breathe.” And Dean suddenly realizes he hasn’t really been breathing since he saw Cas. He inhales sharply and feels his head start to clear.

 

“Better?”

 

Dean nods and Cas looks slightly reassured. Cas sits back so he’s not in Dean’s personal space anymore and sighs.

 

“I suppose I owe you a very long explanation.”

 

Dean just nods, but before Cas can start, he grabs Cas’s hand and laces their fingers together. He feels safer when he’s touching Cas, like Cas is holding all his shattered pieces together.

 

Cas looks surprised but just squeezes Dean’s hand and starts talking.

 

“About twenty-five years ago, there was a special decree in heaven. A very special child was to be born and this child would change the world. However, this child would have a very, very difficult life, full of death and pain and loss. Heaven could not protect this child from the pain in his future, but they could offer a friend and a comforter.

 

“So they asked what angel would volunteer for this. Several angels volunteered, including Anael, Balthazar, and even the archangel Gabriel. However, none of them were chosen. One was chosen because of his kind heart and sincere love of humanity.

 

“When this child was old enough to understand, the angel appeared to him, disguised as a four-year-old boy like the child himself. The angel chose not to be visible to anyone but his charge, so most believed that this child simply had an imaginary friend.”

 

Dean suddenly feels a tear slip down his cheek and Cas just holds his hand tighter and keeps going.

 

“And sure enough, tragedy followed this boy everywhere. But the angel stayed with him as well, through house fires and monsters and beatings.

 

“And when the responsibility for his little brother fell on this boy’s shoulders, the angel tried to be there for the boy, so he would know someone cared for him.Even if it was as simple as remembering his birthday when everyone else forgot.”

 

Cas pauses and looks at Dean. Dean honestly has no idea what his expression is. There’s just too much information to process.

 

Cas tilts his head. “I’ll take you home. I don’t think you should drive right now.”

 

That cuts through the fog in Dean’s head. “You can’t drive,” he blurts.

 

Cas looks at him like he’s just said the dumbest thing known to man. “Yes, I can.”

 

“But you never learned.”

 

“Dean, we spent five years apart. How do you know I never learned?”

 

Dean freezes at Cas’s casual tone. So that’s what that was. No big deal for Cas. Just a nice long break. Even though Cas is apparently his fucking guardian angel. He just left. Never mind the fact that Dean spent every second of those years practically suicidal and barely managed to get out of bed every morning.

 

Cas freezes like he knows what Dean is thinking. “No, Dean. I didn’t mean it like that—”

 

“You left!” The words seem to pour out of Dean like a dark waterfall. “You left me alone for five years. Do you wanna know what I did all those years?”

 

Cas is almost cringing but Dean viciously keeps going.

 

“I spent every single day wanting to die. I’d wake up in the morning and look at my gun and wonder if that was the day I’d finally have the courage. I’d see something funny and I’d turn to show you, but you were never there. You spent years letting me think I was crazy when you could have just told me the truth!”

 

Cas is shaking. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything else to say but that. It was forbidden to tell you I was an angel. And I’m so sorry I left you. I didn’t even check on you. I just couldn’t bear to see you happy with someone else. But you weren’t happy. And I should have known that. I’m such a failure.”

 

Dean nods. It changes nothing, but it does make him feel a little better. But then something occurs to him. “What do you mean, ‘happy with someone else’?”

 

Cas stiffens. “I should take you back. It’s cold in here and you don’t have a coat.”

 

“Cas, what the hell did you mean, ‘happy with someone else’?”

 

Cas squares his shoulders. “Dean, I refuse to tell you the answer to that question in a freezing cold, rundown store parking lot.”

 

Dean is left blinking in surprise. “OK, I guess. That’s fair. But I’m driving.” No one gets to drive the Impala but him.

 

Cas sighs in defeat. “Fine.” He snaps his fingers and suddenly Dean is sitting in the driver’s seat with Cas in the passenger’s seat.

 

“Wha—what just—you just—”

 

Cas sighs. “In case you didn’t believe me about the angel status. Also, it was more convenient.”

 

Holy shit, he really is an angel. Dean shakes off the thought. He was fine believing Cas was his imaginary friend. Cas as an angel is really not the weirdest thing in Dean’s crazy life.

 

Dean starts the engine and pulls out of his parking spot. He starts the trip back to his crappy motel room. Cas is silent and still. And he looks almost afraid.

 

They park and Dean unlocks the door. He notices Cas is still holding the pies. Cas carries them inside and sets them down on a table, and then sits on the corner of the bed. He looks stiff and uncomfortable and Dean feels about the same way.

 

Dean drags a chair in front of the bed so they’re facing each other and waits.

 

Cas looks him straight in the eye. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to this question?”

 

Dean’s hands are suddenly cold. But he has to know. “Yes.”

 

Cas takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t stand by and watch you be in love with someone else. Because … I love you.”

 

Dean’s brain suddenly shuts off. He’s blank. Nothing.

 

Cas cringes. “I apologize. I never meant to tell you. But … you insisted. I should—I mean, I should go. I’m just going to go …”

 

He gets up and makes it halfway across the room before Dean’s brain comes back online. Cas is going to leave him. Never again.

 

Dean jumps up and reaches for Cas and then they’re kissing and Dean doesn’t even know who started it.But he really doesn’t care. Dean traces his fingertips through Cas’s messy hair and Cas cups his jaw with shaking hands. And Dean decides that Cas tastes like rain. They kiss until the tension drains from their bodies, until Cas’s hands are still and Dean’s brain stops insisting it’s all a joke.

 

They sit on the bed and Dean locks his arms around Cas’s shoulders. He’s mostly trying to reassure himself that this is real, Cas is really in his arms, and this is not just a dream.

 

Cas sighs and it’s more like a shudder.

 

“How long?”

 

Cas twists around and looks Dean in the eyes. “‘How long’ what?”

 

Dean fumbles for words under the weight of that sapphire gaze. “How long have you loved me?”

 

A sad smile twists Cas’s lips. “Forever. From the moment I saw you.”

 

Dean can’t breathe. So many wasted years. They could have been together for years. Cas didn’t need to leave.But he had, all because Dean couldn’t just open his damn mouth and tell Cas how he felt.

 

Cas stiffens as Dean’s silence stretches on. “I mean, do you not feel the same way? I—”

 

Dean kisses him, light and soft. “Of course I feel the same way. I was just surprised.” But then Dean grits his teeth. Time to come clean. “I just—I thought you didn’t love me back. I made up Lisa. She never existed. I just didn’t want to tell you how I felt because I thought you would reject me. That and I thought you were imaginary.”

 

Cas just nods and then his whole face looks grim. “Dean, I came back because, well … I tried extremely hard not to listen to your thoughts or emotions but I suddenly noticed that you were going to …”

 

Dean winces. Cas is too polite to say it but Dean knows exactly what he’s talking about. Dean was going to kill himself. He’d had it all planned out. Pretty poetic to die on his birthday that, once again, no one had remembered. He was going to go buy his booze and pie, go back to his shitty motel room, eat and drink himself stupid, and then shoot himself in the head.

 

Cas closes his eyes and presses his lips together and Dean has no idea what he’s thinking. When he finally speaks, his voice is deathly quiet. “Why, Dean?”

 

Might as well tell him the truth. “Because I couldn’t bear to live without you anymore.”

 

Cas sucks in a tiny breath and then he’s kissing Dean with such intensity that it takes Dean’s breath away. He licks at the seam of Dean’s lips and Dean lets him in eagerly. Dean has just one thought in his head as Cas drags his teeth across Dean’s lip. He is the home I’ve been searching for.

 

Cas pulls away and Dean tenses just a little.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Happy Birthday.”


	16. Summoned

Dean wakes up with his nose buried in Cas’s hair and his arms locked around him. The events of the night before come back to him. They watched reruns on TV until Dean fell asleep, still clinging to Cas.

 

Cas is awake and watching Dean a little hesitantly. Dean grins and snuggles closer, savoring the heat from Cas’s body. Dean lies there, just trying to take in the fact that Cas is there.

 

“What about the other angels?”

 

Cas frowns in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

Dean pauses, not sure if he really wants the answer to this question. “Well, you said it was forbidden to tell me you’re an angel. But you did anyway. What happens now?”

 

Cas wrinkles his nose. “I don’t know for certain. I also fell in love with you, as well as revealing my angelic status, so the angels may cast me down and I’ll become human. That’s probably the most likely scenario.”

 

Dean blanches. “Wait a minute. I don’t want you to become human just for me. I’m not worth that much.”

 

Cas looks him right in the eyes. “Dean Winchester, you are worth everything. There is nothing I would not give up for you. If my superiors decree that my punishment is to become human, then I will accept that.”

 

Dean is speechless. Cas loves him. Like really, honest-to-God loves him. He’s willing to become human just for Dean.

 

Cas suddenly freezes, looking like he’s listening to someone calling him from far away.

 

Dean waits as well, tense as a prisoner waiting for a verdict.

 

Cas looks at Dean, rigid and still clinging to him. Dean knows he’s being childish, but he can’t seem to let go.

 

“Dean, I have to go. I’ve been summoned.”

 

“No, Cas. Listen, you don’t have to go. We can run. I know how to hide.” Dean sits up, his anxiety starting to reach a fever pitch.

 

Cas stands up and so does Dean. “Dean, they’ll find us anyway. I don’t want you involved in this.”

 

Dean is being abandoned. Again. Suddenly he’s reminded of the day Sam was born; the thick panic closing off his throat because everyone leaves.

 

Cas puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders. He waits patiently for Dean to meet his eyes. “Dean Winchester, I cannot promise that I will never leave you. But I swear on everything I hold dear, I will always return to you.”

 

And somehow, Dean believes him.

 

Cas brushes the ghost of a kiss against Dean’s lips and then he disappears.

 

Dean waits.

 

And so when Cas shows up at the door a week later, swaying, with blood staining the back of his coat, Dean is there.

 

Dean clings to him later as they lie together, fingersgently clutching the bandages concealing raw wounds. Cas whispers in the dark how the angels ripped off his wings and cast him down and Dean aches to hear it.

 

But then Cas splays a hand against Dean’s shoulder like he’s trying to brand him and whispers, “You are worth it.” And Dean thinks that just maybe he believes him.


	17. Epilogue

_July 4, 2006_

 

“Cas, did you buy pickles?”

 

Cas pokes his head out of the pantry with a frown. “I thought I did. The dill kind?”

 

Dean sighs. “No, I needed the bread and butter kind, but dill is fine.”

 

“Are you sure? I can still run to the store.”

 

Dean just shakes his head. “Nah, you’re fine.”

 

Cas takes his hand and they stand in their kitchen, just lazily trading kisses. Dean finally pulls away. “I gotta make the hamburgers.”

 Cas smiles. “Ok, I’ll make the apple pie.”

Dean grins at him. “Better make two. Jess is eating for two and she’s feisty when she’s pregnant."

"Take your own advice and make plenty of burgers. You know how Sam always goes crazy about them.”

 

The tile floor is warm from the sunlight against Dean’s bare feet as he pulls out the thawed hamburger. He starts to mix in his signature seasoning (like hell he’ll ever tell Sam his recipe, no matter how much he begs), and sneaks a glance at Cas.

 

Cas is humming as he measures butter and sprinkles cinnamon. Cas’s wedding ring glints in the sunlight and Dean feels a flutter of pride that Cas is his. His hair is messy and Dean has to stifle a laugh at the memory of what they did last night to make it so disheveled.

 

They’re both still in their pajamas since Sam and Jess and Cathryn aren’t coming for another hour.

 

“Dean, have you talked to Jana lately?”

 

Dean thinks for a second. “I think I talked to her two days ago. She says she’s eight months in and everything is fine.”

 

Cas nods. “That’s great. Is she still sure?”

 

“She’s positive. She’s only eighteen; she can’t raise a child now. She agrees that Matthew will have a better chance with us.”

 

Cas breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. Now she can keep going to school and get her degree.”

 

Dean thinks back to when they had met Jana three months ago. She had been quietly crying in the soup aisle. Dean had been tempted to just walk by, but Cas insisted that they ask what was wrong.

 

To this day, Dean still has no idea why she decided to pour out her story to two random guys in the grocery store, but he’s grateful she did. The short version is that she had gotten pregnant by accident. Her boyfriend broke up with her and her parents were disgusted. Dean and Cas had been discussing kids for a while, but Dean was still surprised when Cas blurted out, “We’ll adopt your baby!”

 

Dean was pretty shocked but the more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it. Jana was suspicious, but she quickly warmed up to the idea and became just as enthusiastic about it. They had flown through all the necessary legal paperwork and were just waiting for delivery day.

 

Cas suggested they name the baby Matthew, and Dean agreed. He would never name his son after John and he had no other family. Cas said Matthew meant gift of God and Dean decided it fit. Dean even being alive right now was a gift.

 

The beep of the oven snaps Dean out of his memories. He quickly finishes shaping his burgers and wraps them in foil. He pops them in the fridge and starts to head to the bathroom to shower.

He pauses to kiss Cas, who groans in frustration.

 

“That’s not fair! I can’t kiss you properly when my hands are covered in pastry dough!”

 

Dean just snickers and dodges out of the way as Cas tries to flick a dish towel at him.

 

He hurries in the shower and is soon pulling on his favorite navy henley and jeans. But he panics when he hears Cas yell from the kitchen. He scrambles for his pistol and charges down the stairs, ready to rip apart any monster that threatens his husband.

 

But there’s just Cas, gazing adoringly at his pies. Dean slumps against the wall. “Dammit, Cas! Giving me a friggin’ heart attack!”

 

Cas looks sheepish. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But just look at my pies!”

 

Dean looks. They’re movie quality, with perfectly browned crusts and spicy apple filling. Dean is practically drooling.

 

“Geez, Cas, we need to get you in the paper. You can friggin’ bake.”

 

A faint pink flush tinges Cas’s cheeks and Dean revels in the sight. But then he checks his watch and realizes they’re expecting Sam and Jess and Cathryn in five minutes.

 

“Oh shit. Cas, go get dressed. They’re going to be here soon.”

 

Cas glances at the clock and winces. “Don’t forget the burgers!” He calls as he heads upstairs.

 

Dean nearly bangs his head against the wall. This is what they get for having sex instead of getting up early.

 

He fires up the grill on the patio and starts frying burgers, humming Metallica under his breath. He nearly jumps out his skin when Cas’s arms wrap around his waist and then he relaxes against Cas’s strong frame, sighing in contentment.

 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Dean smiles as Cas snuggles against him. But they both freeze when the doorbell rings.

 

Cas groans and goes to answer the door. Dean just shakes his head. He loves Sam with his whole heart, but he’s a serious cockblock. He counts his burgers and turns off the grill and sets the table.

 

Sam steps onto the patio, still gigantic and still in need of a damn haircut. Dean hugs him tightly. Ever since Sam married Jess, Dean hasn’t gotten to see him much, but they’ve both had busy lives recently. Dean’s auto repair shop has been swamped and Cathryn is a grumpy baby.

 

Jess walks outside, chatting pleasantly with Cas about her newest painting. She’s as big as a house, but glowing. Cas is carrying Cathryn’s infant seat. He sets her down carefully and Dean leans down to peek at his one-year-old niece. She’s sleeping peacefully, and Dean strokes her blond wisps of hair before moving away to fix his plate.

 

They all sit down, enjoying the late afternoon sunlight. A fly lands on Dean’s burger and he brushes it away impatiently.

 

“Friggin’ flies. Why do they have to—”

 

Cas’s mouth is suddenly on his and Dean melts into him. Cas licks at the seam of Dean’s lips and Dean lets him inside eagerly.

 

Sam clears his throat loudly. They break apart to see Sam looking grumpy and Jess trying to stifle giggles.

 

Dean swallows his smile and flashes Cas a dark, hungry look, promising they’ll finish this later. Cas responds with a wicked grin of his own.

 

Sam coughs and Dean turns back to his food. But before he does, Dean looks around.

 

Sam and Jess are digging in and Jess has ketchup on her cheek. Sam wipes it away for her and they both smile at each other. The sunlight makes Cas glow and Dean can’t believe they’re really here. This is his family and Dean is home. He turns back to eating Cas’s kick-ass pie with a smile.


End file.
